


Twenty Years Prior

by ConsultingTimelordWizard



Series: Siriusly Granger Time Travel Fics [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Marauders' Era, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-15
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-07 14:44:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3176388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConsultingTimelordWizard/pseuds/ConsultingTimelordWizard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She had been sent back twenty years in time. A curse, he had said, that he had not seen since he was a boy. Even then, the magic was old enough that he had only seen it one time while witnessing the dark arts for the first time in his life. She decided not to press further, filling with dread as he continued to explain: there was no known counter-curse written. Curses didn't last forever, she had been assured. They wear off in time. Until then, he would research and she would be stuck here."</p><p>In which Hermione Granger is sent back twenty years to the age of the Marauders, and life isn't as simple as it seemed it would be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twenty Years Prior

**Author's Note:**

> This is very, VERY similar to my current WIP, The First Wizarding War. However, I had to write a short story for my creative writing class, and I liked this so much that I decided I would post this as well. For those who don't like waiting or multi-chapter stories, consider this an abridged version.
> 
> (Though reading the other will provide more detail, scenery, etc., and won't be exactly as described in this story. Two very similar stories, but different enough that I hope you all read them both!)

The first thing she noticed was the pain.

The pain was a burst much like a firework, colliding into her back with such force that she gasped aloud in shock, breath leaving her body and knees falling to the ground. In the background, she heard someone call her name, but there was a sudden ringing in her ears, the world around her spinning and spinning and spinning and spinning…

It was so blurry. The laughter of her attacker broke through the ringing, drowning out the call of her name.

Blurrier and blurrier the world got, and her wand slipped out of her hands. She felt her body fall forward toward the ground, landing in the dirt with a thud that echoed throughout her skull, bringing what would be a massive migraine in its wake. That didn’t matter, however. All that mattered was the ringing and the blurriness and the spinning, oh the spinning, and the lights that shone from the spells that were cast were no longer spells but streaks of light that reminded her of the fairy lights her parents and herself hung up every Christmas, waiting for Father Christmas to arrive and bring a bundle of presents for them all on Christmas morning. 

The lights were so pretty, and she closed her eyes, lulled into a false sense of security as the laughter of her attacker was cut short, strong arms closing around her a moment later and holding her to the owner’s chest--a man. He smelled familiar, faintly of pinecones and a standard soap that could be found anywhere at a market. So, so familiar…

The security and the smell and the protection that the man provided her lead her to sucumb to the temptation of falling asleep, hearing the man shout in protest but ignoring them nonetheless. He would keep her safe. She knew he would.

The last thing she heard through the cloud of her mind was her name.

“Hermione..!”

o.O.o

The battle that had been raging around her was now ceased, and it was as if it had not happened at all. The school where the battle had taken place had not one scratch, and professors she knew from previous years were now younger by at least twenty years. That made sense, at least it did now. Now, she sat in the hospital wing of the school, staring blankly ahead and listening to the conversation of two professors in question (one she knew to be dead, killed last year by another professor at the school).

“Albus, these things don’t just happen.”

“Old, dark magic has a funny way of doing things, Poppy. For now, she has to stay here.”

“How do we explain her appearance? She came out of no where!”

“In due time, Poppy. I tell them she’s an exchange student and no one will bat an eye.”

“And the three that brought her in?”

“They’ll know to keep silent, I assure you. Now go check on her. She’s awake.”

Earlier the man, Albus Dumbledore, had come in and examined her injury--a scar, shaped oddly like a timer turner--before reaching a conclusion. She had been sent back twenty years in time. A curse, he had said, that he had not seen since he was a boy. Even then, the magic was old enough that he had only seen it one time while witnessing the dark arts for the first time in his life. She decided not to press further, filling with dread as he continued to explain: there was no known counter-curse written. Curses didn’t last forever, she had been assured. They wear off in time. Until then, he would research and she would be stuck here.

She wanted to cry, but Poppy Pomfrey, the Healer, began fussing over her injuries obtained by the war and malnutrition gained by camping around all of England for nine months searching for Horcruxes. She wanted to cry, but she did not, letting the Healer do her work as she mourned the loss of her friends--unborn, not even thought of--and the life she had.

o.O.o

She met two boys and a girl when she was released from Poppy Pomfrey’s care--Sirius Black, James Potter, and Lily Evans, in that order. Sirius was someone she had known in her previous life (she would get back, why did she call it her previous life? that was giving up before she even began), a haunted man who spent twelve years wrongfully imprisoned for the murder of his best friends, only to be killed two years later by his insane cousin in front of his godson (her best friend). She didn’t know James or Lily. They were the ones Sirius had been accused of killing. All she knew of them was that her best friend, Harry, looked exactly like his father James, but had his mother Lily’s eyes--bright green and ever so kind. The resemblance was uncanny, and seeing James Potter in front of her made her want to cry once again. She would not, however. She hated crying.

“What’s your name?”

She looked up at the person who spoke--Sirius. He wasn’t as hollow as she had once known him, but she didn’t expect him to be. He had yet to experience what the man she knew had, hadn’t seen his best friends killed and hadn’t been imprisoned, suffering the wrath of the dementors, all the happiness being sucked from him every day and night. 

“Don’t push her,” said Lily, swatting the other man’s arm. “She’s been through a lot.”

For that, she was thankful. Still, she could say something. She wasn't about to become a mute for the sake of concealing her identity. She was stuck here (temporarily). She might as well make some friends. 

“Hermione,” she said quietly, rubbing her arm. “My name is Hermione Granger.”

o.O.o

It took effort not to take anger out on the people that had done harm in her life. They had not done it yet, maybe hadn't even thought to do it yet. It was not fair to them, but Merlin, she wanted to hurt them.

Peter Pettigrew was part of the friend group James and Sirius had. Knowing what he would do angered her relentlessly, and with great effort she managed not to hex the little rat on a daily basis. He was a traitor, set to turn James and Lily into You-Know-Who and ultimately have them killed. He was the one to put the blame on Sirius Black and send him to prison. He was the one to fake his death, and leave Remus Lupin (the fourth in the friend group, fondly thought of and referred to as the Marauders) to fend for himself and think he was alone. She had a reason to be angry, really. If it wasn’t for him, Harry could have had a normal life with his parents. No one would have had to die. It was his fault.

It wasn’t only him, however. Severus Snape (formerly her professor; formerly Lily Evan’s best friend) was destined to be a Death Eater, part of the group of followers for Lord Voldemort and thus killing thousands upon thousands of innocent victims simply because they were not Pureblood: that is, they weren’t purely magical blood. Snape made her life at school (potions class, specifically) a living hell, bullying her and countless others simply because he could. He was a bitter man, and losing the love of his life (though Lily did not return it, especially not after calling her the racial slur mudblood) was no excuse for such a behavior.

She could count perhaps all of the Slytherin house (save for a few) as the future downfall of wizarding society, and the effort it took to keep control was stressful. In addition to that, she had to study for her classes and keep track of the Marauders and their antics. Lily, though Head Girl for Gryffindor house, normally shook her head and let it on, but she supposed having your boyfriend as one of the members put it in your mind that a few antics could slide. She took it into her own hands after that, making sure they passed their classes and doing what she normally did with Harry and Ron during school.

At first, they all protested, but after much insistence and seeing how much she probably needed normality, they complied and let her do her thing. She was grateful for that.

o.O.o

As she interacted with them, she began to grow closer to the group. She only interacted with Peter with the hope that she could change the future a small bit, hoping that bringing his relationship with the other Marauders closer would stop that branch of history. It was risky, but worth it in her mind.

Remus, she learned after a few months, didn’t know what a wolfsbane potion was before she came around. Apparently it didn’t exist until about 1981, and she didn’t particularly want to watch her now-friend suffer once a month from the werewolf’s curse whens she could help ease the pain. He was suspicious of her simply knowing, but didn’t question it until after the full moon. She sighed and told him vaguely who she was. Remus seemed more understanding after that, taking the potions every month without suspicion.

James, though more mature while with Lily, was such a goof when with Sirius that they both reminded her strongly of Fred and George Weasley, prankster extraordinaires in her time. They never took things seriously unless it needed to be, bringing about the laughter and antics that kept from being as homesick as she normally was. Once again she was grateful for it, and she grinned easier around the four men and Lily. 

Lily was the common sense among the group, having wiggled her way into it without even realizing what she had done. With her, the group kept out of unreasonable trouble, and now with two voices of reason in the group the Marauders were more studious than they had ever thought they’d be. Lily found it amusing, and she had to agree. The boys found it annoying, but neither girl cared. It was a success in their book.

She found herself grow closest to Sirius, surprisingly, and it was a shock mainly because in her own time, she had been more fond of Remus. She had connected more with the older man, probably because of the bookishness that radiated off of them both. They had more in common, and Sirius, due to being in prison, had never truly, grown out of his adolescent stage, acting rashly and immaturely at the best of times. It had been annoying, but she now found that she didn’t see it as often. Perhaps it was because she was no longer looking at him as an adult, but an equal in age. Perhaps it was because there was more to the man than she thought. She wasn’t quite sure.

Nevertheless, she found herself drawn to the man, and out of all her new friends she was closest with Sirius. She didn’t mind it much at all.

o.O.o

Sirius was the first person in this time to see her cry. 

She wasn’t quite sure what triggered it. Maybe it was James and Lily and how similar they were to their future son, reminding her painfully every day what she was missing, left to wonder how her best friends were, if either of them had survived. Maybe it was wandering around the school she grew up in for six years without those two by her side but five strangers (though really, were they strangers anymore?) who knew nothing of her past, of what she went through with Harry and Ron. Lily had Ron’s vibrant red hair; James could have been Harry’s twin. She missed them with her whole entire being, wished they were here to comfort her like they always had been since that fateful Halloween day during their first year. She could imagine Harry holding her close, whispering reassurances that everything would be alright while Ron got a blanket and his wizard chess board, wrapping the former around her while playing the latter with the one who had become like a brother to her. It was comforting, and she often dozed off to the sound of Ron and Harry quietly arguing over who had actually won over who, the fire in the fireplace warming the common room and lulling her to sleep.

None of these were currently happening, of course, but James and Sirius were playing wizarding chess and Lily was reading silently in the armchair to her left, and there was a warm wool blanket wrapped around her that reminded her vaguely of Mrs. Weasley’s sweaters, the fabric scratching comfortably against her skin. She closed her eyes and drifted to sleep, only to be woken by a hand on her shoulder. Of course she would be waken up. None of the boys could get into the girl’s dormitory.

“Harry?”

“...no, Hermione. Sirius.”

For whatever the reason, that just broke it. She would never see her friends agian, never feel the comfort and homeliness that just traveled with them wherever they went. She began to cry, and after a moment of shocked hesitation, Sirius sat down to comfort her.

“I’m sorry,” she heard him say.

“I want to go home.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Sirius was no longer the boy who flirted with her whenever she so much as breathed. He grew familiar like Ron and Harry, though no one would ever quite be there like they were. Still, it was nice to have someone there when she could no longer be strong. Maybe they could be strong together.

It was all she could hope.

o.O.o

She took up a sort of mission during her residence in 1979.

If she couldn’t get back to 1999 with everyone she knew and loved, then she’d be damned if she were to let Lord Voldemort take reign and kill thousands, maybe millions, and leave bloodshed in his wake. At this point, he already had, but she figured that if she stopped him right here and now, there wouldn’t be nearly as much. It was logical, and she knew what each and every Horcrux he had made was. She knew about where they were.

She didn’t know how many were actually made at this point in time.

She ignored that simple flaw, deciding that she could start simple. There were at least two, maybe three, hidden in the castle as it was, which made her job much easier. By Christmas holidays, she could go and find the others, destroy them, then be on her merry way, knowing that the darkest lord of the time was perished.

Getting the tools needed would be the tricky part.

Of course, the Marauders (all except Peter, and she figured at this point it was too late to help him) wanted in on her plan. She refused, but they insisted, despite her requesting to leave Peter out of it. That one request made them hesitant, but she relaxed when they agreed. Anything to stop the Dark Lord’s rise.

The rest of the year leading to the Christmas holiday was spent looking for ways to destroy the Horcruxes. The Basilisk venom was unfortunately out of the question, seeing that no one could speak Parseltongue. Fiendfyre was too unpredictable, and no one knew how to put it out once it was lit. The answer to their problem came, surprisingly, from Professor Dumbledore himself.

She decided it was best to not question where he got a vial of Basilisk venom. Some things were best left unanswered.

o.O.o

Her pain and suffering was shown to the group first when they was the scar that had been carved onto her arm. 

It was something that she tended to ignore these days: the word ‘Mudblood’ was engraved into her flesh by Bellatrix Lestrange (Black in this time period), followed by a cruciatus curse that had her screaming, begging for her life to end, if only to escape the pain that didn’t really exist anywhere outside of her mind. The memory was haunting, but she learned to ignore it. She ignored the nightmares it caused. She ignored the seething look on Sirius’ face as she explained what his cousin would do to her in the future to come. She didn’t want to see the anger on his face, or the shock on everyone else’s. They deserved to know, but she didn’t have to like their reactions. 

She kept the first watch that night. 

It had been discovered through unmentionable means (Dumbledore knew more than he really should. She was a bit concerned about it, to be frank) that Lord Voldemort only had five. Three were already destroyed in Hogwarts (Ravenclaw’s diadem, Marvolo Gaunt’s ring, and Tom Riddle’s diary). Salazar Slytherin’s locket, however, was something yet to be found. They were camping in the woods much like she, Ron, and Harry had done during her seventh year, and she watched as the fire crackled and Remus, James, and Lily slept. Sirius stayed awake despite her insistence.

“You really should sleep.”

“So should you.” That had been the end of that argument.

After a long while of silence, Sirius sat beside her, asking her questions about her life. They were already going to defeat the Dark Lord, so she felt that she no longer had to hide the truth. She told him everything, and he listened quietly, only interjecting when he was confused or needed clarification. She ended the story when she was zapped from the battle to 1979. The silence that followed killed her, and she fidgeted. 

“Well?”

“You’re very brave, Hermione.”

He leaned in, and his lips were soft against hers. She noted that he tasted like peppermint and something she couldn’t quite place in her mind. She didn’t really care.

There wasn’t much talking after that.

o.O.o

“Hermione!”

The Inferi clawed at her skin, trying to take the locket from her grasp. She had never been fond of the living dead phase that everyone was obsessed over, and this moment proved her to be right about her hatred for it. Their skin fell from their bones, and it left her feeling sickened at each touch. Yet she didn’t let go, holding it up above her head.

“James! Take it!”

“Wait--!”

She threw the locket toward him, and the skilled Chaser caught it like it was no more than a Quaffle during a Quidditch match. Lily shot spells at the Inferi, trying to keep them away from everyone. She looked over and saw Remus being dragged away by Sirius, the effects from the Drink of Despair still driving him into a state of delirium. 

“The boat!” she called, and Sirius nodded, eyes wide, as he took his friend toward it. James ran toward her while she saw Lily follow in the other’s suit.

“No, James-”

“We’re not leaving you, Hermione Granger,” he said seriously, shooting spell after spell to drive the Inferi away. They shied away from the light that emerged from his wand long enough for him to drag her away, toward the boat. It began to float away, and she heard Remus whimper.

“It’ll wear off,” she whispered, and the other three nodded. The delirium would fade, and their aging potions (for only one adult witch or wizard could ride in the boat, as designed by Lord Voldemort himself) would be reversed once they returned to camp (she never went without making an antidote for potions). All would be well, and hopefully, oh so hopefully, Lord Voldemort would be defeated. 

o.O.o

One drop of the basilisk potion destroyed the locket. The Sword of Gryffindor, found in the Room of Requirement, had its blade bathed by the remaining contents of the vial, for she wasn’t sure if the snake Nagini yet existed, let alone if she was a Horcrux yet or not. Better to be safe than sorry.

o.O.o

Lord Voldemort rather liked his name being taboo. One mention of his name led the dark lord to their location, purely on accident. A foolish mistake, and she regretted slipping up as she saw the blood red of his eyes stare them all down, the slits that were his nose making him appear to be the snake he himself had become. The dead grey of his skin made her shiver, and once again she wished that Harry and Ron were here, especially Harry. He had faced this man down countless times, and she wondered how he still had his nerve after each time. The first time, in their fourth year, had him having nightmares each night. Afterward...when had he grown used to such a cold stare? She couldn’t fathom ever expecting one aimed toward her, especially one such as this.

He didn’t come alone. She recognized several faces, including one Peter Pettigrew. Glancing to the side broke her heart, because seeing the betrayed shock on the faces of James, Remus, and Sirius was not worth the look. Lily looked shocked, and she couldn’t blame her. Who would expect such a thing to happen? Certainly not those who called themselves your friend.  
They managed to contact a few others, and a battle raged on, people dying left and right. Dejavu overcame her, for this was a similar sight to what she left when she traveled twenty years back into time. This time, however, they would win. No more deaths. She mourned briefly for those who may never be born due to this, those who had been friends, but she didn’t have more than a moment to do so before she was ducking, dodging, firing, casting, and fighting for her life, her right to live another day on this earth. Beside her (because they rarely left each other’s side anymore), Sirius managed to laugh with glee as he took on Bellatrix. She heard a shout of him always wanting to do this, followed by an incantation. She smiled softly and took his hand, dragging them both to the ground as a wall exploded behind them.

“Hermione,” he whispered, and she smiled encouragingly. It was time.

They went at the dark lord together, she, Lily, and the Marauders, firing spell after spell as he fought back relentlessly, laughing at their attempts. Nagini lept out at them, but Frank Longbottom--much like his son Neville had--sliced her head off, making Lord Voldemort cry out in rage.

She heard the spell before she saw it. Green light spiraled at her, and the Killing Curse was going to hit. She closed her eyes in surrender...but it never came.

Lord Voldemort was killed moments later, falling to the ground in such a mundane death that it didn't seem to fit that of a dark lord at all. Slowly, she looked down at her feet, to the person who saved her life.

Peter Pettigrew stared up at her, eyes glassy and body lifeless. 

Maybe he wasn’t such a rat after all.

o.O.o

It took two more months for the curse to wear off. Once she would have been thrilled. Now, she was filled with tears.

The dizziness and blurriness returned, and she clung onto Sirius with all her might, leaning, hoping for one last kiss before she left forever. Sirius begged for her not to go, she could hear it, but she couldn’t speak. Soft lips once again met hers, desperate and trying their hardest to keep her at bay from leaving the common room, his lap, and the life he made with her in this time period.

“I love you...”

No matter what she did, she could not respond, and Merlin, she hoped desperately that he knew she felt the same, even as she felt herself leave him behind. Sirius…

o.O.o

Harry and Ron were glad to have her back. Her coma had lasted almost one year, Harry paying for the medical expenses with what his parents had given him. According to them both, she had gotten into a magical mishap of some sort (she didn’t bother remembering what), that James and Lily had heard and taken her to the hospital at once. St. Mungos kept the room for her, and it was filled with cards upon cards of well wishes, flowers, chocolates, and the like. They were not sure she would ever wake up.

The only thing she registered was that it had not been a dream. Harry was missing his lightning scar. Lord Voldemort had been dead for twenty years.

With a weak smile, she passed back out, hoping that Sirius was alive and well.

o.O.o

His face was the first she saw when she woke up. His hair was a mess, and he had some wrinkles from age, but he was still the devilishly handsome man she remembered from before. 

“Sirius.”

The man above her smiled. “Hermione.”

It was then she knew that all was right in the world.

**END**


End file.
